


Forget

by Ash_Wings24



Category: Dream Team - Fandom, Minecraft youtube
Genre: Angst, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-15
Updated: 2020-11-15
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:08:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27581165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ash_Wings24/pseuds/Ash_Wings24
Summary: Can you forget your own face?Dream did.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 47





	Forget

“Can you forget your own face?” George frowned, worried to be awakened by such a sudden message. He wasn’t sure how to respond. How would you? If your best friend, recently distant, sends such a concerning message? 

“I don’t think so” He responded after erasing several lines of text. There was a series of dots from Dream’s side, before they went away. 

“Are you okay?” George fiddled with his keyboard, not knowing what to say. He wanted a short and simple response. Well, he got a short one.

“I think so”

What?! What does that mean? George panicked, asking if they should meet up. He had recently moved to Dream’s town, so then and Sapnap could do more collabs. That was the plan, until Dream’s streams and videos stopped coming out, and the faceless youtuber became a recluse.

He realised he hadn’t focused on the conversation for a bit, so he did. Dream had sent back a small “,,,” which only left George more helpless.

He hopped onto Snapchat, sending Sapnap a DM. 

Sapnap groaned, deleting another roughly edited video. His ideas were dying without the other two. Manhunts and the Dream Team gave him his popularity. No one cared anymore.

A ping from his phone pulled him out of his misery. It was a message from George.

“Have you talked to Dream lately?”

“No”  
“And he hasn’t spoken to me”  
“What’s up”

Sapnap stared at the small screen, light from his monitor had made him accustomed to screens. The next message was a screenshot from George’s phone. It was his texts with Dream.

“Mm”

“What does that mean?! Sapnap?! I don’t know what to do?!”

“Hold on brb”

The tired adult flipped out of George’s messages and headed to Dream’s. He thought twice, thinking that it might seem sus. Dream had new feed, so he checked it.

It started with a broken mirror in the sink with the caption “shit shit shit” repeated. The next one showed family tapes from his childhood captioned with “this is me????”. Sapnap frowned. The next one was worse, showing Dream’s mouse hovering over his channel studio. It was a simple button but a terrible one. “Delete channel”. This was captioned with “this isn’t me is it”.

Sapnap screamed internally, spamming Dream with all capped messages. George was also screaming as he had just done was Sapnap had done and gone through the feed. 

Dream heard a knock at his door and violent pinging from his phone. He turned off sound and answered the door. Drista stood, staring.

“Why are you wearing a mask?”

“It’s my brand.” He laughed.

“Okay weirdo. Dinner’s done and has been for like... an hour. Check your texts, dipshit.”

“Don’t let Mom hear you say that.”

“She’d agree. You have been a bit of a shit lately.” Drista scowled, hiding her actual worry. She stalked off, fiddling with her phone.

Dream shut the door with a sigh. He didn’t own a single camera, had taped over all webcams and phone front cams, yet he feared mirrors. There was a mirror down the hall, hanging by a couple family photos. He hated the site. He would use the small bathroom with no mirror over the one two feet from his bedroom. 

His phone buzzed rhythmically. He turned to see George calling him. He couldn’t not pick up... could he?

“Dream! Thank god! Are you okay? Should I come over, or um— meet up somewhere? You’ve got me worried, dude!”

Was it bad that he smiled? “I’m fine.”

“What the fuck is your Snapchat?!” 

“Don’t know... George.”

“Uh— yeah?”

“Have you ever looked in your reflection and thought... That isn’t me. This isn’t my face?”

“Dear jesus. Some wiki has to have your address!”

“Answer me.”

George stayed quiet, not knowing what to say. He didn’t want his friend to feel alone, but still...

“No. I haven’t.”

“I don’t remember what I look like, George. And everytime I look into something that is supposed to show me, I only see a stranger. An imposter.”

“There’s an imposter among us.”

Dream sighed, twirling his dirty blond hair.

“I’m sorry.” They said in sync. Dream smiled with a chuckle.

“When was the last time you laughed? Or drank? Or ate?”

“I don’t remember. Recently enough to still be alive.”

“That’s not good.” George stood, making earrape over the phone. “Meet me at Sap’s.”

“...” He hung up. Dream couldn’t take anymore. Will he really go outside like this? Who was he? Who was he? Who was he?

His breath quickened and he shuffled into the corner of his bed, against the wall. Who was he? Please.

Dream laughed at Wilbur’s tweet, putting his phone in his pocket so he could use the toilet. Something caught his eye. His reflection? This couldn’t be him? The freckles? The eyes? 

He frowned, looking into the mirror. Mesmerised. Something was wrong about this. This wasn’t him. He hyperventilated, reeling back a fist and shattering the glass. Drista and Dream’s mother knocked on the bathroom door rapidly.

“You okay?”

“Clay? Can we come in?”

“Coming in—“

But the creaking of the door didn’t interrupt his thoughts. His body looked so strange. He couldn’t even recognise himself. Dear jesus.

Dream glanced at the wrapped fist holding the steering wheel. Someone remind him why he was going through with this? He had a homemade mask on, sure, but it wasn’t enough. His hair, his hands. None of it seemed like him.

George recognised the car and waved. He couldn’t hide the worry on his face; the absolute panic.

Dream out on a smile behind the mask. Nick, a.k.a. Sapnap, stood awkwardly by the McDonald’s. 

“Dream! Are you okay? Why are you wearing that?” George hugged Dream, which took the tall man by surprise. He shrank out of the embrace, not wanting to be touched. George realised and backed off.

“I’m fine, George. Hi, Sap. And... the mask? I don’t like people seeing my face.”

“But we’ve seen it before.”

“I don’t like seeing my face.”

“What?” Sapnap coughed. He gawked, shuffling the face mask he wore a little to a comfortable position. “How can you...”

“I just don’t.” Dream snapped, backing up. He wasn’t comfortable here with them like he used to be. He suddenly didn’t want to eat.

“C’mon, let’s go in,” George reached for Dream’s hand, before pulling away and simply beckoning him forth.

The masked man sighed heavily, following.

They ordered food, although Dream just got fries. He smacked on them while watching the other two eat their burgers. Sapnap looked worriedly over at him.

“That’s all your getting?” They asked as he ordered. He nodded, paying for his own food and then letting them order.

George and Sapnap obviously felt bad eating more than him, but whatever. Honestly, it looked like he was just cosplaying himself with the dumb mask. Several customers had complimented his “cosplay”. 

Dream had to take off his mask to eat, so he sat away from the window, where there would be no reflections. He didn’t think the gray sky had much to offer anyway. 

When they were done, Dream still hadn’t finished the small container of fries. He tossed them out, and said he was fine.

Walking together on the chilly afternoon was awkward. Dream felt like eyes were constantly on him, because they were. Suddenly, he wished for the walk to be over with.

“Dream...” He looked back at George who had called his name. George hugged him, and Sapnap slipped off the mask. Dream’s breath quickened, the sight of himself in Sapnap’s phone screen.

“Why? What are...” He shut his eyes.

“You have to confront your fears.”

“Please, George. Let me go!” 

“I’ll let you go, but you have to promise to stop hiding. To stop hurting yourself.”

“I’m not...”

George picked up the bandaged hand, probably still with some glass in it.

“You have.”

“Okay! I promise! Just let me go, George.”

George’s grip on him loosened, Sapnap put down his phone, and Dream fled. The walk turned into a sprint for Dream. But he had made a promise the other two planned on keeping up with.

They didn’t bother following, instead, they took off back to their homes, his car long gone by the time they got to the lot. To them, this was a success, to Dream, he felt like he’d just made a mistake.

He would stick to his promise, though. It really wasn’t a mistake.


End file.
